The Three Princes: a folktale from Valinor
by Starlight10
Summary: A Silmarillion-based adaptation of a persian folktale.
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: This fic goes as a birthday present to Cirdan, who requested to have a fairy tale adapted to Middle Earth. I have chosen as an inspiration The Three Princes of Serendip, a persian folktale. The characters on this story belong to Tolkien, and some parts of it, to persian tradition. Thanks to Henneth-Annun and Silmfic group members for being a continual source of inspiration, thought-provoking discussions, and sleepless nights trying to avoid those creeping nuzgul!

Happy Birthday, Cirdan, and hope you enjoy!

**THE THREE PRINCES**

Note on the Text 

The version of this tale that has reached us is but the result of the passing of time, and a good example of the oral tradition of our people. As it now stands, it has gone through several changes of style, and issues such as the geography, names, and the true nature of the quest have been affected by the different storytellers who have added or supressed elements in their true efforts to entertain and educate their audiences. As a direct consequence of this, there are several versions in circulation, each drawing from the other, and all reflecting traces from the original. But, they are not the original itself.

The origins of this tale can be traced to an ancient time. Several sources (not all oral, but some in the form of manuscripts and art manifestations such as engravings or paintings) suggest that the actual events from which this tale draws, came to pass some time before the first rising of the Moon and Sun, when a new reckoning of time began.

As it has been stated, the events of this tale do not belong to Middle-Earth in its actual form, but to what has been known to us as the blessed realm, Valinor, the home of the Valar and the Eldar, and which has been often confused with 'The Grey Havens.'

Evidence suggests that there were at least three important urban centers in this land, the home of possibly three or four distinct groups of people, mostly of the elder race, although some of higher lineage dwelt there in peace and friendly intercourse. It is said that one of these cities was the abode of a wise and learned king. The truthfulness of this has been verified among various documents preserved in many cities in Arda during the first and second ages, belonging to some families who claimed descent from this king through any of his three sons. 

The tale goes on to mention that even though the king was father to all three sons, they had not the same mother, for the eldest of the children had been born to the king from a lady who died shortly afterwards. The ages of the three boys make the student suppose that it was a while before the king re-married, thus begetting two more sons from his second wife, known as 'the fair.'

Without getting into further discussion about the events inmediately preceeding those of the present story, it may be safely assumed that the journey of the three sons actually took place, bringing with it the beginning of a short period of peace that ensued right before the darkening of Valinor.

Due to the antiquity of the sources before mentioned, minor inaccuracies have arisen that should not affect the overall message of the tale, but concern the issues of exact dates, and certain events that bear a character of doubt, such as the journey to the Shadowy Seas and the Encounter with the Falathrim. However, there is no evidence to confirm that those events did not occur; therefore, they have not been suppressed from this version.

An important note concerns the names of the main characters. Even though it is certain that the king's name is 'Finwe,' the names of the three sons may have been altered to fit the languages of the diverse lands where this tale has been made known. A very rigorous and scrupulous investigation has been made in regards to the linguistics of the manuscripts from which this story draws, allowing the author to safely state that the names of the sons should not be 'Feanor, Fingolfin, and Finarfin' but 'Curufinwe Feanaro, Nolofinwe, and Arafinwe' according to the language of the High Elves, a group of people to which these princes belonged, and among whom they were known by the aforementioned names.

In an effort to provide the reader with a more accurate version of the tale, the author has attempted to create a compendium of all different sources, taking special consideration to expound the original events as they may have happened, and avoiding the mention of more fantastic circumstances that would lead away from the true spirit of the tale.

May all those who read listen with their ears and learn with their minds, as the story of The Three Princes unfolds. 

Tegilbor

Scribe to Cirdan, lord of the Falathrim


	2. Prologue

Prologue 

There was once, in a land that has now drifted away from lore and song, a wise king who had three sons. They were the joy and pride of his life, and unto them he bestowed great gifts, teaching them his own craftsmanship and sharing with them his knowledge of the world. 

The eldest of these sons was called Curufinwe, and he was the beloved of his father. Curufinwe was tall and had raven black hair; but the most interesting feature about his countenance were his fiery eyes, which were a reflection of his spirit. All the folk in his father's kingdom loved him, and whenever he spake, people felt the strong desire to follow him, stirred by the fire that lived within his heart. However, Curufinwe Feanaro was quick tempered and swift to wrath. A great passion drove all his doings, and he did nothing except that he willed it. Nobody could constrain him to action, and he followed only his own heart, or his father. He was the most skilled of word and hand from his father's children, and the quickest to learn. His spirit burned as a flame.

The second son was named Nolofinwe. He was strong as his brother Feanaro, and very brave, even the bravest of the three. He had inherited his father's steadfastness and prudence, and all things he did, he considered carefully first. He had a great love for his father, and the sense of his duty to him lived always inside his heart. His allegiance to his family and heritage came foremost to him before all things else. He ruled his life wisely, and was respected for it.

The third, and youngest son, was Arafinwe. He was the fairest and wisest of the sons of the king. From his father, Arafinwe had inherited his thirst for knowledge and his delight in words and the beauties of the world. But, from his mother, Arafinwe had inherited his sharp wit and his abillity to observe all things carefully and keenly. He learned much from others with this singular gift, and he tried to exercise it as much as he could in order to understand people, especially those who thought differently from himself. He was patient and peaceful, and he always did what his wisdom suggested.

In hopes of furthering their understanding of the world around them, the king sought to find the best teachers that could be found for his children, so they would learn and perfect any craft of their choice. They all desired to learn the art of jewelry making, the one that distinguished their kin from among the rest of the Elda. However, soon enough it became plain that neither Nolofinwe, nor Arafinwe, would ever be able to excel their elder brother in this province. His skilled surpassed even that of his teachers, and with his fast-moving hands he was able to create things so perfect that would rival even reality. The two younger brothers, therefore, turned to other fields of knowledge, eventually becoming renowned by their craft and works, but not as much as Feanaro.

The king was indeed very pleased with his three sons, individually. But, there was always a constant source of grievance to him, which darkened his happier moments and brought him much regret. Even as his greatest joy came from his sons, his greatest sorrow rose with them, for there was a strife and a breach that could not be healed even by the most skilled of healers: Curufinwe had been born to a different mother than his other two sons. He was the son of Serinde, the king's first wife. After her death, the king of the Noldor had married Indis, from the kindred of the Vanyar, and from her he had fathered two sons.

Curufinwe was not pleased by his father's marriage, and had no great love for Indis, nor for his brothers. Even though as boys they had been friendly to each other, as the three grew toward manhood the breach became wider and wider, while Curufinwe drifted apart from his two younger siblings, and even from his father.

Finwe was constantly grieved by this, for he loved his three sons, and wished them to become like him, wise, powerful, and bountiful, able to rule their houses in righteousness when the time came for them to have a home of their own. He stayed awake for many nights, trying to device a way to bring their sons together, but to no avail. He tried different things, and every time he saw his hopes turned to ashes as the gap between them seemed to widen, instead of decrease.

Still, being wise and patient, the king waited, knowing that some day, perhaps sooner than he thought, the time would come when his three sons would be forced to stay together, either by life's circumstances, or with a little help from him. It mattered not, as long as the opportunity arose; and when it did, he would be ready to seize it.

The time came quicker than he had foreseen.


	3. The Quest

**CHAPTER ONE: _The Quest_**

Manwe's early breezes stirred the leaves and grasses gently, producing a crackling sound that closely resembled the sizzling from the fire in the king's forges, but was somehow more pleasant as it brought with it a sweet scent of honeysuckle and jazmin that filled Finwe's garden with delight. Telperion was on its second level of blooming, and the soft light of the Two Trees created a pale, golden hue, that enveloped every object in Tirion. It was a pleasant sight. Valinor was, indeed, a blessed land; and most magnificent in its beauty was the city of king Finwe, the abode of the Noldor, craftsmen of the Elves.

The king sat quietly under the eaves of a mallorn. His body was motionless, but his eyes roved restlessly over a piece of parchment that he held tightly in his hands. A mischievous smile played on his lips as he savoured the contents of the message, and he barely could restrain his own laughter. He wet his lips and leaned back against the bark of the tree.

Life had made him take many turns. Some were more pleasant than others, but he priced every single one. He only lacked one thing to make him completely happy, and now he anticipated a fair chance to accomplish his wish. Finwe's state of mind was so solicitously pleasant, so distracted was he by his own thoughts and the schemes that began to take shape inside his head, that he failed to notice the soft rumour of a footfall that was so familiar and dear to him. He was made aware of the presence of another elf by the startled sigh that brought him out of his musings.

 "My, it is still very early, my love!" Indis smiled her most radiant smile. Finwe turned to her with the obedience of a child. "I wish you did not wake as early as you do. You need your sleep, and you are not getting any of late."

"I know you worry, meleth, but concern is not necessary," the king could not conceal the mirth that made his eyes twinkle, "at least not today."

His wife regarded him with an intent, puzzled glance. There were things about Finwe that required the excercise of her keenest abillities. The strange smile on his face, and his playful disposition made her think that the present circumstance was one of them. Grabbing the soft skirts of her gown, she knelt by her husband's side. His grey eyes were as bright as the beams from the Mindon.

"You say nothing?" He asked, amused, "It usually does not take you that long before you discover my thoughts, or at least make attempts to. Is there something different now?"

"I may say so," she said hesitatingly, "Yes. There is something different now; something very different. You are in a nice state of spirits today. I wonder..."

"Yes, what is it that you wonder about? Let us play for a while."

She narrowed her gaze, studying him carefully. Suddenly, a strange sound, like the crackling of a rough surface, caught her ears, and she looked down to Finwe's fists, where he kept an object concealed inside his palms. "Is this the cause of your merryment, my king?"

"Your perception is as keen as ever, my dear. I realize how much you know me."

"Is it, then?"

"Indeed. I am only sorry that you spoiled my little game. I had hoped to puzzle you until the next mingling of the lights." She scowled, bringing a grin to his face. "Perhaps I would have, except that I have very important business to conduct today."

"And what business is that?"

"Very important business," he said, pulling her close to him, "pertaining to my sons." He handed her the piece of paper, and unfolding it quickly, she began to read:

_My Dear Finwe,_

_I realize it has been quite a while since our last intercourse. I wish you will not be detained from your responsibilities by the present communication, whose sole purpose is to inform you that at last I am able to fulfill my wish as the grand halls I have purposed for my city are about to be completed. _

_My people have labored for years, but the work is nearly finished. I shall offer a party to commemorate such event, and I would be greatly honored if you should come to the feast, with your family, and as many others as  you choose to accompany you.The celebrations will be held on Laire; that leaves you some time to make the necessary preparations.._

_Forgive me for disregarding the proper formalities. I hope you will do the same, and join me for the festivities. Alqualonde is to be a fair city; even as fair as Elwe and I envisioned._

_I remain expecting your answer,_

_Olwe_

_P.S. The message was written in haste. I suspect you divine the high spirits in which I write. I trust you will come._

Indis followed the lines, speaking aloud some sentences, whispering some others, until she had gone through the contents of the letter –twice.

"Well?" Finwe asked.

"Well? Well, I think it a very handsome letter, and the kindest of invitations. I hope this will not take your sleep away until Laire comes. I do not think I could bear to have you chuckling all around the palace until then."

"Don't you see?" he said, flinging his hands in the air, "This is the opportunity I have been waiting for! I have planned, and thought, and devised all sorts of tricks, to no purpose. But," and he seized the letter from her hand, folding it carefully, and slipping it inside his tunic, "I think this is it! This is it!"

"Are you sure, my love?" Indis asked in a murmur. Her eyes betrayed a great anxiety. "I have seen that look in your eyes before many times..." 

"But this time is different. Surely my sons will wish to indulge their loving father once more. I have the feeling this time I will not fail."

Indis lowered her eyes, fingering the lace of her gown. "Surely so."

"Do you not think it will work? What could go wrong?"

"You have not informed me of your plan yet, my dear. I trust and submit to your judgement; but I cannot help..."

Finwe looked at her with longing eyes, leaning toward her in an effort to grasp her thoughts. "What is it that you cannot help?"

"I do not wish to see you hurt again. You have tried so many times to bring them together, that it seems an impossible dream. I am afraid."

Finwe smiled. His soft, yet sincere smile had the same effect on her every time, for she smiled in return, and had to hope for the best. It may have been that his optimistic nature was the first thing that drew her heart to his; or maybe it was the smile. But the truth was that whenever he smiled like that, her heart cheered. "Very well, then. I see your hopes are set on this thing. I am completely ignorant of what you purpose to do, but I truly wish you will succeed." For a moment her gaze strayed, "Yet I must tell you one thing. Tampering with fate is no good. I have sadly learned it. Please, Finwe, do not set on doing too much, and let things take their proper course. Eru's designs are his own to master, not ours."

"I am glad you approve," he said, helping her up. "Do not give me that look, for I have been listening. I shall not interfere with fate, but I must bring my sons together. And I will." He kissed her tenderly, and as he left, he turned once more to look at his fair wife, "Wish me every success!" 

Soon enough he was gone, his long strides resounding behind him; but in the garden, Indis could hear her husband humming a tune she had nearly forgotten. Softly, she began to sing the words to her husband's song.
    
    _Elenya calima, sila nin oialë,_
    
    _Fanyar unurtuvar alcalya telpina._
    
    _Tuilenya lotion ar surion ramarinen,_
    
    _Ava ni hehta ve aiwi wilwala!_
    
    _Menel ar tauri olorinen eldarin_
    
    _Tuluvar i tirionna assinda_
    
    _Yassen i ingolë melmeo ortië,_
    
    _Nítuvar mistenen asta rambáryallon._

Sitting on the grass once more, she sighed and nodded her head, "I hope your feelings prove true. Indeed, I do."

Feanaro strode through the marbled corridors with the rush of a storm. Sometimes people would cross his path and wave at him, but he failed to notice. It was just as well. They had learned to recognize Feanaro's moods during the many years he had lived at his father's house, and it mattered not to them; so glad they were of his coming. But, everybody knew that when Feanaro's mind was at work, there was nothing else to make him lose his concentration.

_"I wonder what it is that brings me here,"_ he thought, as he advanced through the hallway, seeking for his father's private room, where he had been informed that the king would meet him. _"If my father wished to have a word with me, surely he could have sought me away from his walls and those of his servants. He knows I would much rather be somewhere else than here." _Memories from his days at his father's house filled his mind with different sensations; nonetheless, a smile came to his lips. _"Well, I should not judge father. After all, this is my home too, and I could say it is good to be back; or, it will do me good. I should seek for an opportunity to meet with... them. I wonder what is it that father wants."_

He stretched his arm forward to grasp the door-knob, and this he did very stealthily, hoping to surprise his father by his arrival. But upon entering the room, it was his turn to be surprised as he found his brothers were already there.

"You," was all Feanaro managed to say after an uncomfortable silence. "What are you doing here? Has father summoned you as well?"

"It is good to see you, Feanaro," Arafinwe said, leaving Nolofinwe's side, and walking toward his eldest brother. Arafinwe clasped his brother's hand as they used to do when he was child; but, his manner was much more checked and less spontaneous than it had been all those years ago. "Yes. Father should be here in a few moments."

"Good day, Feanaro," Nolofinwe nodded from his position by his father's desk. "We should have waited outside for you, but we were unaware that father had summoned you, too."

"It is our fault for not asking father directly, and contenting ourselves to hear the words from his messenger," Arafinwe said, trying to dispel the awkward atmosphere that filled the room. "Do you have any idea of the reason for this summons? It seems very uncommon that he would seek us through a messenger. It must be something quite important."

"I was hoping you would clear that for me," Feanaro said as he strode to the other end of the room, closer to Nolofinwe. "Have you no guesses as to his motives?"

"We do not."

Suddenly, they were interrupted by the opening of the door, and all three beheld the figure of their father as he advanced toward his usual place in the room. The king appeared in all his majesty, his eyes filled with great light, and his mantle of deep blue enveloping his strong form. Finwe embraced each of them in turn, lingering for a moment in Feanaro's eyes.

"I am glad to see you all here," he said, as he invited all three to be seated. "The years of your youth now seem to have been but a brief moment, and I do not see as much of you as I would like now. This meeting is, indeed, a pleasure, and one event to which I have been looking for. Now, I would like to hear from you. Are there any interesting news to share?"

Silence and very puzzled glances were all the answer that the king received. Three pairs of eyes were fixed on him, questioning, and then the same looks were exchanged among themselves. Finally, his youngest son spoke.

"Well, Father, as you know, I have been helping Rumil to compile the story that he told you about, do you remember? The amount of work that he puts into it is quite amazing, but the project is finally coming along. I think you will be surprised when you see what it has all become." 

"Knowing Rumil, it should be greater and longer than we expected," laughed Finwe. "I heard that you have been leading a research project of your own. It involves smithcraft, does it not?"

"Indeed, sir," Arafinwe nodded, blushing slightly.

"Well, tell us about it!"

"I believe that, if we understood better about the properties of the different materials from which things are made, we could create stronger metal, or brighter jewels. It is only a matter of our learning how to master the substance and use it to our purpose. Aule's smiths are help-"

"I agree with my brother," Feanaro interrupted, his impatience showing by the constant fidgetting of his hands, "but I believe this is not the reason you have called us to meet you. Would you not share with us your concerns, father?"

The king nodded. "Arafinwe, I would like to hear more about this. I know you will succeed on this enterprise, and I trust the results will prove satisfactory to you, and to the Noldor. Now, as I see that you are all impatient to hear what I have to say, I guess the tale should be told from the beginning." Finwe reached inside his pocket, producing a brownish piece of parchment.

As he read the contents of the message, sometimes his eyes strayed toward his sons' faces, encountering a different expression in each: puzzlement, attentiveness, curiosity... Once he had finished, he laid the letter on his desk, and Nolofinwe seized it inmediately, going over the lines a second time.

"Father," Feanaro said, "I fail to see what this has to do with us. We are to go with you, I suppose."

"First things first, my son," Finwe answered, bestowing a cheerful smile to his son. "My wish is, of course, that you all accompany me to the festivities. However, I can hardly expect to attend myself if I do not have a fitting gift to grace Olwe's celebration."

Nolofinwe's eyes inmediately left the letter. He said nothing, but turned his gaze to Feanaro and then to the king. "Have you thought about anything in particular, father?"

"Not yet. That is why I have summoned you."

"You wish us to help you find this special gift."

"Indeed, that is my wish."

"Surely I can craft a jewel for you," was Feanaro's eager answer. "I will make such a bright gem as the lord Olwe has never seen. He will be very pleased!"

"I am certain you would, Curufinwe, but that is not exactly what I have in mind." Finwe smiled as all three faces turned to him, puzzled and expectant. "I want to engage your help in the finding of something wonderful, surprising, uncommon, something that will fill his whole house with delight. Something that will leave him so entirely baffled... something that will gladden his heart and that of his household. Do you think you can help me?"

"We would do anything to help you," Nolofinwe said, "but the finding of such a thing will not be an easy task. We would go through all the markets in Tirion, and still find not the like of it."

"Precisely," Finwe snapped his fingers, "that is why you must look outside Tirion!"

"What exactly do you propose?" Feanaro asked, resuming his seat.

"He proposes that we journey out of Tirion to find it," spoke Arafinwe, who had hitherto remained silent. "Is that not so?"

"Indeed. The quest is to find the most wonderful object in Valinor, something that will astound and gladden Olwe's heart. We still have some time before Laire. I am sure that with all of you looking, we will be able to find just the thing. But, you must leave at once."

"I can be ready and travel tonight."

"Yes, Curufinwe, you all will, for you are to travel together."

The eagerness that had filled their countenances was soon lost to an indistinct emotion that Finwe construed as despair. _"This will be harder than I had thought."_

"What do you mean –together?" Nolofinwe asked, trying to conceal a frown, but marring his efforts by a dismal tone.

"This is what I think: You all set out to Alqualonde, for you must see Olwe's house before you are able to find the gift that will grace it, that will enhance it's beauty or amuse it's master. That first stage of the journey you will complete –together. Then, after a short stay at Alqualonde, you shall depart your separate ways in order to find the gift."

"And then we come home with it." Feanaro said, more to himself than to his father.

"Yes, but since you are to return together as you set forth, I suppose it would be wise to return to Alqualonde until all three of you are assembled. What do you think of the plan?"

There was little for the three elves to do but to nod and agree. Soon enough, the king had sent for his advisors and preparations began for the departure of the princes. The news resounded from the high towers and the tallest roofs, that the sons of the king were to go on a quest in search for a gift worthy of its giver. 

As Finwe and Indis stood on the square to wave their sons farewell, Finwe spoke words of wisdom to them. "I am glad that you all have chosen to help me. I could not be more proud of my sons, and I hope you know this. If you stay together, you will be able to find what we seek. Do not turn from your purpose, and you will succeed."

"I see there is more to this than you have chosen to reveal," Arafinwe said, as he embraced his father.

"My devices are my own," the king smiled, "and I hope to see them fulfilled."

After the final parting words, and the uttering of wishes for a safe and successful journey, the king and queen of the Noldor saw the three princes disappear from behind the crystal stair of Tirion.

To be continued...

The song of Indis and Finwe is a part of a poem found through www. Ardalambion.com I have been unable to locate it again, or the author, but I found it through that site. This is a translation of it
    
    Elenya calima, sila nin oialë,
    
    _My bright star, shine forever for me,_
    
    Fanyar unurtuvar alcalya telpina.
    
    _Clouds won't hide your silver ray._
    
    Tuilenya lotion ar súrion ramarinen,
    
    _My spring of flowers and winds on wings,_
    
    Ava ni hehta vë aiwi wilwala!
    
    _Abandon me not like fluttering birds!_
    
    Menel ar tauri olorinen eldarin
    
    _Heavens and forest with elvish dreams_
    
    Tuluvar i tirionna assinda
    
    _Will come to the most grey town (__Tirion - "city with walls and towers")_
    
    Yassen i ingolë melmeo ortië,
    
    _In which the magic of love has rosen,_
    
    Nítuvar mistenen asta rambáryallon.

_Will wet the dust of its walls with rain._


End file.
